


Eyes Of Ender

by Tipper_2024



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Violence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28090392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipper_2024/pseuds/Tipper_2024
Summary: Being different is dangerous, and no one knows that more than Tommyinnit.----TW's for mild violence, churches, implied child abuse, religious trauma. Any updated warnings will be put at the top of chapters for reader safety.Also: Tommy is an Enderman hybrid jdjdjdjd
Comments: 66
Kudos: 466





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW's for this chapter:  
> Implied child abuse, mild violence, religious trauma, churches, trauma in general. Be safe please.

_Tommy knew he was abnormal. He knew normal people didn't have eyes greener than the grass, or pointed ears, or eyes set into the space under their collarbone. What he didn't know was how dangerous it was to be different. His first clue came when he was eight, and his father pulled him aside. Tommy noted how he was careful to avoid eye contact, and for a moment felt guilty. "Tom, listen. Your mother needed to run, and so do you." Tommy stared at the bridge of his father's nose, mimicking eye contact. "Why?" The blonde asked, despite clearly knowing why. His mother was different, and so was he. His father just pulled him into a hug, all contact and warmth and just what Tommy wanted. There were no arguments, no other attempts to change the situation. Tommy's dad helped him pack. And when at last it was time to send Tommy off, he didn't cling to his_ father. _He walked away with a wave and an "I love you", knowing that what his dad needed was the assurance that Tommy would survive, and knowing that he couldn't give that to him. His second clue came when he stumbled across a church, and knocked on the thick oak door. It was raining, and Tommy was cold. It opened, and Tommy was ushered in without a second thought. At the time he'd been grateful for the quickness, too naive to realize the horrors that went on behind closed doors. For years he stayed in that church, following orders and carefully_ _building a routine. Wake up, change into the outfit he'd been granted, and help the Sisters with breakfast. Ignore the crying children, as they were only "learning the lessons of God". Ignore the locked doors, for "You're a good one. You'll never have to go there". It had been a very messy affair when Tommy had finally left. At fifteen, Tommy ran from a place of pain and fear and sin. He caught himself whispering a prayer to the winds as he ran, and he felt disgusting._

_His third and final clue? When he'd been jumped as he slept. Finally Tommy had managed to find shelter, and had promptly fallen asleep due to the utter exhaustion of running. He woke to a knife near his chest and an old man straddling him. Tommy screamed and kicked at the man,_ _causing the knife to dig into his skin. Thankfully, his Eye of Ender was unscathed. He fought with the man, gaining more gashes and getting his ass handed to him. This guy really wanted the_ _Eye. Tommy didn't remember how he escaped, only remembering the feeling of a sword in his hand and the warmth of blood. The wounded blonde didn't stop moving until the night after, frantic and so, so_ _tired_.

These memories never left the blonde, no matter how many times he fought to forget. The scars that adorned his collarbone were a constant reminder of how hard he had to fight just to breathe another second, and Tommy knew how glaringly noticeable they were. After all, having someone try to gorge a vital part of your body out is going to scar. At sixteen, Tommy knew he was strange. What with the eyes that had no pupils, the pointed ears splattered with black, the speckled scales that loosely resembled freckles, and the Eye in his chest, he was nothing but abnormal. Tommy didn't mind. The teen snapped back to attention at the sound of animals. 

He glanced around his surroundings, silently cursing himself for spacing out like he did. There was a house near him, fenced in. The front yard held cows and sheep, clean and healthy. Tommy could barely see a farm behind the house. On the other side of the blonde there were rows of trees, messy and overgrown. Tommy was painfully aware of the hollowness in his stomach, the dizziness that came with too little food. I could probably steal from the farm, he mused desperately. He was an idiot, sure, but a hungry idiot. So, with absolutely no logical thought whatsoever, Tommy began to creep to the house. 

He was careful to stay out of the sight of any windows, cautious to keep his arms curled close and his strides short. Tommy honestly thought he'd get off scotch free with his attempted theft- how stupid of him. He got over to what he thought were potatoes, and reached out for one. A hand clasped around his other arm, and he was hauled up. Tommy let out a surprised shriek, an overtone to it that came from his Enderman heritage. His chest burned. Tommy was spun until he was facing his attacker, a vaguely humanoid figure. Tommy could feel the edge of a blade against his throat, and froze. "Hey, hey, listen- don't use that knife buddy, I'll leave and you won't have to do anything, just put me down and I'll go-" Tommy's voice was rough with misuse. "You're a hybrid?" The other voice questioned, deep and imposing. "What's it matter to you? Just let me go." Tommy snarled, a more inhuman edge to his voice. "I'm the one with a knife to your throat, I wouldn't be making demands if I were you." There was a certain monotony to the person's voice, one of forced carelessness. Tommy could tell his attacker didn't want to kill him. "Do it, i dare you." Tommy goaded. "See if anyone cares." 

For a second the grip on his arm tightened, and Tommy thought for a moment that he'd misjudged and he was actually going to die, but the knife was taken away. "You're an Enderman hybrid, aren't you? Rare," the person commented. Tommy scoffed. "Yeah Yeah, ogle at me some more why don't you-" the blonde finally took a good look at the other. Tall, cloaked and regal looking. Their eyes glowed, lighting up their oddly formed face. Something clicked. "Ah, a Piglin hybrid." Tommy calmed his sarcasm. Piglins were volatile and easy to provoke, and however ballsy Tommy was, he knew this was a fight he couldn't win. 

After a few moments of choking silence, Tommy held out a hand. "I'm Tommy, not that it matters since I'll be leaving." The Piglin shook his hand. "Technoblade," he muttered back. "And you're not leaving." Tommy had been in the middle of considering the coolness of a name like Technoblade, so the man's words didn't fully click. "I'm- I'm what?" Techno just grasped his arm again and tugged him along to the back porch of the house. It took Tommy a few seconds to fight it. "Hey, hey no- listen, I appreciate you not killing me but I don't want to go anywhere near that house, I'm sure you understand-" Tommy struggled against the iron grip. He took a moment to observe the house for possible exits, and his eyes fell on something that made his blood freeze. There was a cross above the door, ornately carved. Memories flickered through Tommy's head like lightning, of the cries of children who'd been hit with crosses just like that, of the stains that he'd had to scrub off of dull wood. His words became panicked. "No, no please I really need to go, you can't keep me hostage here please!" Tommy didn't care if he was begging, there was a cross there and he was most definitely not safe. Tommy's back began to ache, phantom remembrance of the first and only time he'd been beaten. Techno merely dragged him up the stairs, closer and closer to that damned cross. A growl rumbled in Tommy's throat and once again there was a burning in his chest, and the blonde didn't know where the sword in his hand had come from but he swung anyways. There was a clang of metal on metal, and Tommy was thrown back from the impact. Down the porch stairs, driven into the dirt. The hilt of Tommy's sword hit on the edges of his Eye, and a keening wail erupted from him. Through the fogginess of pain, Tommy got up, holding what he now saw was a Blackstone sword in front of him with shaking hands. Techno was standing idly at the top of the stairs, now accompanied by a shorter man in a bucket hat.

Fuck.


	2. Oop

Ok so my Google docs has crashed and I can't work on it anymore, meaning that there will be a delay in how quickly I can get this next chapter out. I'm sorry jdjxidjdjdjdjdjfi 

I've downloaded another writing app but it's formatted entirely differently than what im used to, so bear with me. I will get a chapter out, it'll just take longer than previously expected. 

Uhhh yep that's it, thanks for all the kind words that have been shared :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW's for: Descriptive nausea/vomiting, descriptions of child abuse, cursing, mentions of churches/religion, medical malpractice. Please be safe, my story isn't worth your health.  
> Also, please let me know if I missed anything.

Now usually, Tommy was an expert at escaping less-than-ideal situations. You can run from virtually anything as long as you try hard enough. But there the blonde stood, muscles tensed as he stared at the men on the porch above him. The arm that was holding his sword was an ashy gray, and his chest still burned. The sword itself was a mystery, Tommy wasn't even sure he wanted to know where it came from. His main priority was making sure he didn't get any closer to that damned cross above the doorway.

"This is a strange introduction, to be sure." The shorter man quipped, a laughing edge to his voice. _Is he mocking me?_ Tommy furrowed his eyebrows and tightened his grip on the blackstone sword. "He's an Endermen hybrid, Phil." Technoblade commented. " _He's_ got perfectly good ears and a mouth to speak with." Tommy snapped, forcing the shake out of his voice. He refused to be intimidated. "We don't doubt that," the short man- Phil- soothed. He stretched his hands out in welcome, as if there was not a cross on the door and as if Tommy had not just tried to murder someone.

"How did you get here?" Phil asked. Tommy shifted, letting his arms drop to his sides. His ears twitched. "I just walked. I didn't mean to come across your house." He replied shortly. Phil was being courteous to him, so he needn't be a complete dick. Not yet. "How long have you been walking? You look thin, when did you eat last?" Concern filled Phil's voice, seeped from his posture, a quality to it that set Tommy on edge. "That's none of your concern." Tommy's voice was colder now. "You can just forget I ever existed, I'll be on my way." The blonde squared his shoulders, knowing that even with his considerable height advantage on Phil, it would be a struggle to get away. Techno was there, after all. But… it couldn't hurt to try. Maybe they'd let him walk off unscathed- scratch that, Tommy'd be grateful if they even let him leave alive. Tommy started to turn away and walk, but a hand came down hard upon his shoulder. The teen flinched, dropping the sword and raising his arms to defend his face. His ears flattened defensively. He spun around, at least wanting to face his attacker if he was to get harmed. Techno stood in front of him, an irritatingly knowing expression in his eyes. Behind him, Phil's face was twisted into what Tommy thought looked like pity. Somehow the fucker had managed to get down the stairs far faster than Tommy had initially counted on.

"You were trying to steal food, idiot. You're skin and bone. You are going to come inside and eat, and from there you can make decisions." Tommy scoffed, attempting to push Techno away from him. Besides a little shift in balance, it did nothing. Techno almost cracked a smile, a vague twitching of his lips. Then he started to walk backwards, taking Tommy with him. "Just a little food, then we might consider letting you leave." Tommy took a deep breath. "No." He dug his heels into the ground and stubbornly held himself there. "No?" Techno's voice took a sort of edge that made Tommy's skin crawl- but Tommy wasn't a pussy. "I'm not eating with any of you. I want to leave." The blonde insisted. His stomach cried out for food and his throat screamed for water, but there was a deep-seated uneasiness in Tommy's gut that overrid everything else. "Tommy, please. Just a meal and then you can leave." Phil pleaded with him, and Tommy felt no guilt for the sneer that crossed his face- because why should he care? Why should this random man care about a straggly, downright rude sixteen year old boy? He shouldn't, therefore Tommy was definitely going to regret going anywhere near that house. "No." One word, so much context behind it. Context that Tommy would definitely not share.

"... Okay. Techno, I'll stay out here with him. If you could go inside and whip up a plate of food, please?" Tommy looked in the direction of Phil as Techno stepped away, and there was a soft sort of warning in his eyes. _Don't run_. Tommy just sighed. They were too insistent to not have the worry based on something, so Tommy stood aimlessly as Techno went inside. “Why the cross?” Tommy asked shortly, trying not to look at it too much. Phil chuckled. “The church up the road gifted it to me, and I wasn’t rude enough to get rid of it. None of us here are religious.” Tommy eyed Phil distrustfully. The man had no reason to tell him the truth, but after a moment Tommy turned away. He knew the signs of a religious household, and other than the cross, not many were turning up. Besides, he was being fed. Techno was quick with his plating, and he walked back out of the house not long after going in. Someone else followed him, face mostly hidden by hair. Tommy sat up straight at the new arrival, reaching out with shaking hands to grab the plate. “You’re Tommy? Another hybrid?” Tommy identified the person’s voice as male, though he still couldn’t see any defining features. Tommy shrugged, looking down at the food. There was a water bottle haphazardly thrown down beside it, fogged with condensation. The food itself looked great, mutton with a side of mashed potatoes. There wasn’t any gravy, but that was okay. _Gravy was only for the good kids-_ No. Tommy snapped out of his daze when both Techno and the newcomer sat down. “I’m Wilbur,” the man said. Tommy stared at him for a moment, searching for any malice. When he found none, he averted his gaze. The instinctive discomfort that always came with staring at people made Tommy’s skin crawl. “Sorry for being rude,” the blonde muttered. “Yes, I’m Tommy. Yeah, I’m a hybrid.” Tommy stole a look at Phil, distinctly uncomfortable. With a glance towards the others, Tommy began to eat. Carefully, uniformly, the way he’d been taught to eat with company. Swallowing a bit of potato, he looked up. “... I’m not a fucking zoo attraction, you don’t need to watch me.” He ground out, hands shaking more at the effort it took to not wolf down the food and water. “What else is there to do?” Wilbur snarked back, amusement sparking in his eyes. Tommy smirked, liking the energy this man put out, before remembering where he was. The smile dropped, and Tommy went back to staring at the plate. “Thank you for the food,” Tommy mumbled.

There was a certain monotony to the statement, one that came with repetition. Tommy knew the statement was too formal for the occasion, but he’d been raised a polite child. A traumatized child- A polite child. “You’re welcome, Tommy. Make sure to drink the water, too. You probably need it.” Phil’s voice was soft, much too soft to be directed at someone like Tommy. Tommy merely blinked at the older man, slightly concerned by how caring he seemed to be. Caring gets you hurt- Tommy wondered if Phil had ever been hurt the way he had. Surely not; after all, Phil seemed to be nice. Nicer than Tommy by all accounts.

Tommy uncapped the water bottle and sipped at it. His stomach rolled in an unsettling way, but he ignored it. Tommy would not throw up. It quickly became apparent that Tommy’s body did not give a fuck about what he thought, and nausea began to creep up his throat. He carefully set the plate down, ignoring the curious looks he received. Along with the nausea there was a sort of panic- Tommy had never liked throwing up. The people at the church had severely underestimated how sick children could get, and that led to dangerous medical malpractice. Tommy had developed a phobia from that same mistreatment, lucky him. The young man really didn’t like throwing up. It made him feel disgusting, and he never got any care at the church when it happened. Just a simple “Let God do His work” and a pat on the back. Yes, because God saves people by forcing them to eject the contents of their body from their mouth- flawless logic.

“Tommy? You look pale- are you okay?” Phil’s hand hovered just above Tommy’s knee, and Tommy despised himself for his instinctual urge to flinch. “Maybe. I’m nauseous.” The blonde answered, breathing deeply between words. He could see Techno shifting away, and his lips twitched. “I’m not gonna throw up on you, man. You didn’t kill me, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Wilbur let out an airy laugh, throwing his head back. Tommy hadn’t thought it was that funny, but Wilbur was breathless by the time he fell quiet. Tommy closed his eyes as his stomach rolled again. The panic spiked into something more potent. “Can someone start spouting shit at me, I don’t want to throw up and I need a distraction-” Tommy’s voice was much too shaky, and he winced in embarrassment. Too late.

Tommy could feel the nausea reaching a peak, and he quickly scrambled up. He wasn’t rude enough to throw up anywhere near the others, so he staggered a good seven feet away before keeling over. The panic tumbled in his mind along with the discomfort, causing his arms to shake and tears to fall. He dry heaved for a moment before actually throwing up. A strangled cry left his lips before the coughing started. Tommy had memorized how throwing up worked for him: Nausea, dizziness, dry heaving, actually throwing up, coughing, sometimes throwing up again and then either coughing until he passed out, or panicking until he passed out. This time, it looked like he’d cough until the air no longer went into his lungs. A gentle hand was on his back before he could move, rubbing small circles into the dirty shirt Tommy wore. Tommy wanted nothing more than to lean into the touch, to maybe even get a hug- “It’s okay. Tommy. It’s alright. Breathe.” Through the buzz of fear in his ears, Tommy could tell the voice was Phil. Tommy just let out another loud cry, vaguely noticing the distorted nature of his voice. It gave way to another bout of coughing, painful and harsh. Someone was speaking to him, but Tommy could only focus on the acidic taste in his mouth that was slowly taking on an iron hint. Another hand was put on him, this time on his shoulder. _Fuck this. This is so goddamn stupid. I shouldn’t be panicking in front of strangers. Stupid fucking crosses, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t there._

Tommy didn’t know what had happened, but he got the sense that he wasn’t alone in his head anymore. It was intrusive, the feeling of someone else in his mind, something he’d felt before what with his mother’s telepathic tendencies. _Tommy. Breathe._ The blonde had no fucking idea where that voice in his head came from, but he wasn’t about to make a big deal out of it. He inhaled sharply, the fog starting to recede from the corners of his eyes. As he gasped, the urge to cough surfaced again. _Careful, Tommy. Don’t pass out on us._ Tommy genuinely hated the fact that he took comfort in the intrusive voice, hated the fact that he knew it was probably Techno, what with Piglin’s natural telepathic properties. The man shouldn’t have been a comfort. Tommy continued to breathe, even with the terror speeding through his veins. If the person who’d been speaking to him had heard his scorning thoughts, there was no indication of it- reassurances kept being uttered, until at last the panic fully faded and Tommy was able to see where he was again. _Good job, Tommy. By the way, this is Techno. Smart of you to realize._

Tommy opened his eyes to see Techno a little ways away, legs folded carefully beneath him. _God damn it._ He thought, now directing it at Techno. The Piglin’s eyebrows rose. _What, ashamed that you needed help? Or, ashamed that I’m the one that helped you?_ Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose as dizziness washed over him. _Both._ That was the only response he could give as he fought against the spinning on the world around him. “Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was soft, much too soft. The hybrid turned slightly to look at him. “Could you stay with us for the night? We need to make sure you can keep down a little food.” Tommy hesitated, having a hard time processing the words. They seemed to melt together, which meant it took an extra few seconds for Tommy to even think about responding. “I don’t know,” he finally responded. Techno’s eyebrows furrowed. _That’s not an answer, kid._ Tommy just took a deep breath.

“I- I don’t like staying places,” he said instead of what he’d wanted to blurt out- a quick yes would’ve been fine. “Why? I’m sure we could change some things for the night if you’re not comfortable with anything.” Wilbur’s question was innocent, but Tommy felt stuck anyways. His mind filled with memories of whispered threats in hallways, crying children, blood on crosses- Tommy forced the thoughts out of his head, aware that Techno was still fuckin’ around with his telepathy bullshit. He’d already seen enough. Tommy remembered the tricks his mom had taught him about blocking connections, and wracked his brain for any recollection of instructions. He settled with just asking. _Hey dude, could you maybe get the fuck out of my brain?_

Tommy never said he was nice.

He could almost hear Techno’s exasperation. _Ask nicely, gremlin._ Tommy opted to ignore him. It was his fault if he saw something bad, not Tommy’s. “Eh. You don’t need to change anything. If you’re really that worried, I’ll sleep outside or something. I won’t run.” Tommy sounded exhausted even to himself. The panic coupled with the piglin bitch still being in his head made for a draining combo. “You don’t need to sleep outside, we aren’t barbarians. We don’t bite,” Phil promised. “I don’t know, Techno looks like he’d eat me. Big cannibal vibes.” Tommy got a little bit of his humor back, finally. “Watch your words, kid. Maybe I do bite.” There was amusement in Techno’s voice, but a pit of anxiety formed in Tommy’s stomach. _Watch your words,_ something that was always followed by cries and pitiful calls for some sort of help. The youngest children were always the loudest, keeping Tommy up at night with their pleading sobs for forgiveness.

Tommy looked at Techno, regretting his decision to ignore the hybrid’s presence in his mind. There was a new paleness to the man’s face, an anger in his eyes. “Hope you like the taste of Endermen,” Tommy commented. Phil sighed, getting Tommy’s attention again. “So, are you okay with coming inside? I promise there’s no more crosses, its just the one.” Phil’s voice was careful, and Tommy cursed himself for being so open about his distaste for the shaped wood. More flashes of stained wood threatened to surface, but Tommy resolutely pushed them away. “... fine. I don’t want you guys to shit your pants worrying about me.” Wilbur scoffed and stood up, and for a moment Tommy froze, waiting to be reprimanded for his vulgarity- then a hand was offered to him. Tommy stared at it for a moment, looking back up at Wilbur with raised eyebrows. Then, slowly, Tommy took the hand he was offered and got up. The world spun sickeningly for a moment, and the teenager stumbled. A steady arm came to wrap around him, ensuring he didn’t fall. The contact made Tommy want to cry, and the overwhelming urge to bury himself deeper into Wilbur’s arms had come back full force. He could only pray that Techno was out of his head. “Don’t make me carry you, beanstalk boy.” Wilbur teased, waiting until Tommy had regained his balance to let go. Tommy merely rolled his eyes, and started the walk back to the house with Phil in front. The fore-boding feeling had vanished, leaving an eerily calm contentment. Tommy didn’t mind- he knew the paranoia would come back soon. The only thing he could do was savour the peace.

The cross still seemed to glare at him from the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOOO BOY DID THIS FUCKER CAUSE SOME PROBLEMS   
> I was writing it and google docs crashed, and then my motivation crashed, and it was such a fuckin beast the whole time it was in development, but here it is  
> hopefully its as good as the first chapter, y'all seemed to like that one a lot :)

**Author's Note:**

> Woop woop!! This is my first series djdjdj  
> Honestly I'm nervous, but hey. Try shit once and see if it works, right?  
> I don't have a schedule yet so *stress*


End file.
